Not even halfway.

I heard it said once, in referring to motherhood, that the days are long but the years are short.  For some reason I can relate at the moment; we’re suddenly screaming towards the end of January when it seems the new year turned over just yesterday, and while my days feel long I know this season of rest will come to an end soon and I’m desperate to wring out every moment of goodness and joy I possibly can.

Last week I celebrated another trip around the sun exactly as it should be celebrated; with cinnamon rolls and chocolate cake and dear friends and a review of the 37^th tour that made my eyes leak in appreciation and gratefulness.  Several months in the previous twelve had too many highlights to choose just one.  I visited eleven different states and eight different countries, made a zillion new friends, spent time with friends and family, learned a whole lot, and ask myself on a regular basis how is this my life. Never would I have guessed as a child this is how my days would spend themselves. I love it.

A family member of mine is celebrating her 100^th birthday this week. It’s astounding to me, to think about what she’s seen and done and experienced and she’s still got a lot left in her.  It got me thinking.  What will the world be like when I’m 100? I was chatting about this to a friend last week and he said you’re not even halfway through your life and think about what you’ve seen… and I love that thought.  Not even halfway.  I don’t think much about dying, as I’m far more interested in living life to the full, but I have always expected to die young-ish… I mean, I’m an adventurer and my day-to-day is often riskier than average and it’s not morbid or weird, I don’t think, and not something to fear.  But it was interesting to consider that I might not even be halfway through my sojourn on earth. 

And you know what? God himself could stand before me and proclaim I have only three more days left on this planet, or sixty-three years, or anything in between, and it would change nothing about how I spend my days, live my life, or decide my next steps. Nothing.

I have no regrets, my life is not incomplete in any way; I keep short accounts and don’t withhold apologies, I am wise with money but not stingy, I seek to serve and love and breathe life and be light and whether I’m almost finished or really just starting I wouldn’t change a thing. And I’m so grateful.  And I think it’s an important question that we all should be asking, if tomorrow was your last day or you knew you’d make it to 100, would it change anything about the way you’re living? 

I know I have a tremendous amount of favor on my life. I don’t understand why, it’s really unfair; when much of the world grapples with why do bad things happen to good people I find myself constantly asking the opposite, why do such wonderful things happen to such a completely unworthy person?  In these early days of my 38^th trip around the sun, I’m so, so grateful for the people and the places and the experiences that have filled these days and years and I’m so, so excited to see what’s around the next corner.

Thank you, dear ones.  From the depths.  May what is to come unfold for all of us in beautiful ways, beyond what we could ask or even imagine.

 

I love the beach.

Looking forward.

I see articles come through on my news feed that discuss the need children have of play.  Kids today are stressed out and in desperate need of letting loose on the playground or elsewhere. Play therapy is an important component to mental healthcare, and that time to be free from burdens, stress, and expectations is critical to their health and overall wellbeing.

It’s the same for adults, we just don’t let ourselves do it.  Sometimes we can unplug from the machine for a few weeks of vacation a year, but how many are still looking at emails, never really free from the burden of expectations, stresses, and the neverending grind?

This last two months, since leaving Harvard, I really felt strongly I was not to start applying for jobs.  Completely counterintuitive, my normal driven self might have balked a bit at the thought; but it’s been such a wonderful gift – my own version of play therapy. 

The last eight years I’ve lived overseas and navigated the challenges of Africa, of saying goodbye all.the.time, of brief visits home crammed full of fundraising speeches and donor meetings and family time… of an incredibly all-consuming job (that I loved) in challenging environments, while simultaneously earning my Masters degree…. Then I moved my life to a completely new city and jumped in with both feet, not taking the break that all mission organizations advise you to take after being in the field as long as I have… and then the universe and the divine gave me what I wasn’t able to give myself: play time.

I’ve loved this gift of time and friends and experiences and joys.  I’ve traveled to DC, to Seattle, to Florida and to Minnesota; I’ve visited historic places and checked off activities on my Boston Bucket list; I finished my thesis, giving it the time and energy it truly deserved and I’m so proud of the end result; I’ve spent time with dear friends and family, enjoying life to the full without the stress of work and ought tos and shoulds  in the background.  What an incredible gift it’s been and I’m so deeply grateful to everyone who has helped make it happen.   

Now we’re in January and I feel the shift I knew was coming; it’s time to look forward. It will come as no surprise to anyone, but I’m heading back to Africa.  I’m not sure exactly when or in what capacity yet; those things are in the process of being determined, but it’s where my heart is, where my longings and passions and skills and abilities and experience all collide best into the greatest version of myself that I long to offer in service to others and to God.  I’ve been approached by a few organizations and I’m approaching a few others, and am so grateful to have the time I have right now to make the best decision, not grasping on to the first thing that comes along, but really asking questions and praying and exploring and evaluating what will be the next right thing.

Once decisions are made and offers accepted and moving boxes packed and all that other good stuff that is to come, life returns to the crazy once again, which I love and am looking forward to. But in the meantime, I’m going to spend as much time as possible with friends; a few more people to see across the country, dear souls who have supported me through so much, and once I say goodbye again I know it will be for a long time.  I’m going to keep working my way through the Boston Bucket List, play in the snow, see movies and say yes to adventures.  Knowing this time will come to an end makes it all the more special; I’m so incredibly grateful, happy, honored, and excited to see what unfolds in the coming weeks and months.

On dreams.

It seems like just yesterday the world was collectively fueling the frenzied anxiety of potential global market collapse because of a single digit computer glitch called y2k… Which, of course, was a whole lot of nothing.  But that was nearly two decades ago now, which simultaneously makes me feel old and grateful for all of the life that I’ve had the privilege of experiencing.

It’s that nostalgic time of the year, when holidays and family time somehow bring out the best and the worst in all of us; when the ball dropping and Auld Lang Syne singing infuses us with a shot of hope for new and greater things; when my upcoming birthday marks yet another revolution around the sun and I’m so thankful I get to do it again when so many can’t, don’t, or won’t.

The last year was a year of transition and working really hard and wondering and trying new things and learning and becoming more of myself, it seems, every single day. I said see you later to Mercy Ships, finished my masters degree, tried out the American life, destroyed some idols, met some incredible people and some others I hope to never encounter again; I grew up a bit, cried ugly tears and laughed until it hurt, and I’m so grateful for every one of those experiences.

This next year is already a mysterious conglomeration of excitement, of new beginnings, of adventures and challenges and dreams and greater things and hope and trials and I’m so, so happy I get to be and do and feel all of those things.  This is life to the full, for me, for this time and season and year.  I’m so grateful. I’m so happy. I’m so humbled and honored and amazed that I get to be and do and experience all of this. 

I’m not one for resolutions; I try to set my intentions on a daily basis, not a yearly one.  But in the big picture of life and hope and dreams, I do want to throw open my arms wide to possibility and anticipate nothing less than greatness; not for me but for us, collectively, for those I have the privilege of encountering and affecting and helping and serving and teaching and learning from and praying with and for.  Why not? Why can’t we dream and hope and throw off everything that hinders?  Every great thing that ever was, from neurobiology to the symphony to cosmology to democracy began as a dream; came from a place of possibility, of hope, of a belief in something greater than the status quo of the day or the season.  That’s what I want to live and breathe and embrace and encounter as I put one foot in front of the other and keep moving through 2018 and beyond.

May it be so.